


Crossing the Line

by Somekindofflower



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 16:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15890013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somekindofflower/pseuds/Somekindofflower
Summary: He was looking at her with such soft, naked adoration that Lucy could have cried. He was searching her gaze for something and it suddenly occurred to her that he had been waiting for her to cross the line between them. If he didn’t think she wanted him to, he never would. Her hand cupped his cheek and he murmured her name “Lucy,” like an endearment, before looking back with his heart in his eyes.Or, Lucy is shot on a mission, Flynn feels guilty, and they finally cross the line.





	Crossing the Line

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking some of my "flashbacks" to the canon timeline from WFEO and repurposing them as one-shots or drabbles--the ones that can stand alone. So if this looks familiar, that's why.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Timeless

“Where’s Flynn?” Lucy asked Jiya after Agent Christopher left the room to escort the doctor to clean up in the “medical bay”, which was really a glorified bedroom on the ground floor of the safe house. Jiya double-checked the hanging bag of blood that was dripping into Lucy’s uninjured arm.

“This just has a couple minutes left, I think. The last time I saw Flynn was when Agent Christopher ordered him away since he was distracting the doctor.”

Lucy sighed, sure he was blaming himself. “Would you mind getting him for me?”

“Okay. I’ll get him and come back to take out your IV.”

“No, that’s okay. You go be with Rufus. If Flynn comes, he’ll change it.”

Jiya raised an eyebrow. “’If’? Come on.”

Lucy felt her face heat and hoped the blush would be canceled out by her paleness from the blood loss. She knew the team had noticed the growing intimacy between Flynn and her since Chinatown. Small touches between them had become more and more commonplace, and the team knew if they searched for one they would find the other. 

What the team didn’t know about (she didn’t think—no way would that have gone unmentioned by Wyatt or Rufus, but Jiya and Connor might not say anything) were the nights she cried herself to sleep in his arms. He had an uncanny knack for sensing when she was up grieving in the middle of the night (she suspected it was because he wasn’t sleeping either). The first time it had happened, he had knocked on her door at three o’clock with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. She had ignored the drink and his shocked protests and tugged him into her bed by the shirt with a boldness borne from exhaustion and sorrow and collapsed in his arms. The next morning, she had apologized profusely until he had shut her up by telling her he was there for her, however she needed him. A few nights later he had come again, this time heading straight to the bed after only a tearful but encouraging nod from her. Never when she wasn’t crying. 

It didn’t go any further than that, to Lucy’s increasing discouragement. It wasn’t surprising that her desire for him had snowballed since then. Sleeping pressed up against someone tended to do that, and it definitely wasn’t a chore. What was surprising was how much she genuinely liked him and that she missed him whenever he wasn’t there, for whatever purpose. She was pretty sure he had a thing for her, too, but she wasn’t confident enough to push the issue.

“Lucy? Do you want me to go now?” Jiya’s question pulled Lucy out of her trance and she nodded, ignoring her friend’s smirk. Those two weeks without Rufus had been torture for all of them, but especially Jiya, and anything that put a smile on her face was worth it. Even if it was at Lucy’s own expense.

A couple minutes later, the door opened and he entered, tension obvious in every muscle of his body. 

“How do you get up here without making a sound? The stairs and floors in this place creak like crazy whenever I walk around, but you’re silent even though you’re way bigger than me.”

There was no amusement in his face—he was still visibly guilty about her injury—but his shoulders relaxed just slightly at hearing her sound normal. “Are you calling me fat, Lucy?” Flynn frowned as he eyed her bandage, and he moved to sit on her right side, being careful of her IV.

She scoffed. “No, you know you’re—” she cut herself off and bit her lip. “You look good,” she finished lamely.

The corners of his mouth turned up minutely and it felt like a victory until he sighed and furrowed his brow. “That was too close, Lucy. I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time.”

Lucy shook her head at him. “You got there just in time. The only reason I was able to get out of the way was because of you training me so I was able to dive fast enough. You shot him immediately so he didn’t get another chance. It’s not your fault.”

Flynn worked his jaw as he looked at her arm, as if making sure she hadn’t spontaneously started bleeding again.

“Jiya said it’s just a graze?”

“Yes. I’ll be fine,” she didn’t add that it stung like crazy. He’d had enough to know, and she didn’t think it would help the situation. His eyes bored into hers, full of concern, and she tried to put as much reassurance into her gaze as possible. Flynn dropped his head onto the bed between her arm and her hip and she felt him shudder. 

“I’m okay,” she whispered. Unable to stop herself from touching him in reassurance, she raked her fingers through his hair as he leaned into her touch. Lucy felt him relaxing as he laid there for a couple minutes before sitting up. She was about to reach for him again, but he looked to her IV stand and cleared his throat.

“I need to take out your IV,” he moved to gather the biohazard box and other materials Jiya had left. As she watched, she noticed that there was a different kind of tension in him now. It looked like he was close to breaking, but she couldn’t tell if he would cry or yell or kiss her once he did. 

After gently removing the tubing and needles from her arm, he shuddered again at the sight of her blood as he held a cotton ball in the crook of her arm. The materials were placed in the box with his other hand before he tore a piece of tape and smoothed it to hold the cotton ball in place. Lucy felt him start to sit up before hesitating, and green eyes flicked to her face as he stroked the inside of her arm with his thumb. Her eyelids flickered closed until she felt his lips pressing against the crook of her arm, just above the tape, and lingering. The pleasant shock of it zinged down her spine and her eyes flew open as she gasped.

Flynn was sitting up and biting his lip. He was looking at her with such soft, naked adoration that Lucy could have cried. He was searching her gaze for something and it suddenly occurred to her that he had been waiting for her to cross the line between them. If he didn’t think she wanted him to, he never would. Her hand cupped his cheek and he murmured her name “Lucy,” like an endearment, before looking back with his heart in his eyes. 

They had one of their unspoken conversations where his eyes spoke to her more than his words could, and she realized that he would follow her anywhere: past, present or future, hell or high water, and all she had to do was ask. 

Out loud, she said “Will you?” Confusion flickered across his face but settled into hope as she knotted her fist into his sweater and pulled him down. There was no hesitation as their mouths met. Heat burst in Lucy’s chest and spread outward as she mused that she had been right. Flynn kissed the way he fought: take no prisoners, no mercy, burn everything down to the ground until all she could feel was the fire consuming her. But…in a wonderful way. She decided then to save the metaphor choice for a more opportune time, as she flicked her tongue and he groaned so deeply she felt it in her bones. 

The hunger grew until Lucy had to have him closer, needed to touch more of him. But as she started to tug him down, he shifted his weight and bumped her hip. Pain jerked her back to full consciousness. She couldn’t help but break away from him with a hiss.

“Your arm? Shit, did I--?”

“No, my hip. I didn’t realize I fell on it so hard.” Flynn moved back as Lucy shifted and lifted her shirt slightly. His eyes went round for a moment as she moved to tug her pajama pants down an inch, but they both winced upon seeing the dark red bruise swelling across her hip. He went to the box of supplies and found an ice pack, shaking to activate it, and wrapping it in her discarded robe before coming back to the bed and placing it on her hip. She grunted at the cold. “Thank you.”

“Did you hurt anything else?” At her head shake, “Are you sure? You might have hurt your ribs if you fell that way.”

Lucy bit her lip against a smirk. “I’m pretty sure—I took out that housekeeping cart and towels with my top half while the rest hit the floor. But you’re welcome to check.” She suggestively gestured down her side with her free hand. Somehow he managed to look amused, exasperated, concerned, and turned on all at once, and she couldn’t help but giggle.

“Okay,” he huffed. “I think the pain pills are kicking in. I’ll let you get some sleep.” The lamp flicked off and he said “Goodnight, Lucy,” and started toward the door.

“Where are you going?” She shot up and he turned back, his face hidden in the dark.

“You need your rest to heal.”

“Yeah, I know. But where are you going?” She heard him move closer to the bed.

“You want me to stay?”

“Yes,” she said, frustrated that he was being so dense. To his credit, he didn’t continue questioning her, but walked back to the other side of the bed, toed off his shoes, and climbed under the covers. Lucy rolled her eyes when she realized he was teetering on the very edge of the bed. “Come here.”

Flynn awkwardly tried to arrange himself around her without touching her, much harder than usual since she was on her back and it was a tight fit for him to squeeze into a double bed with her anyway. It didn't help that he had to avoid an aching hip and ice pack as well as a bullet wound. He finally settled on his side facing her, his left arm tangling with her right, and his right arm awkwardly dangling from his side before she snorted impatiently and pulled it across her waist. Flynn was holding himself so rigidly that the insecurities that had been banished earlier began to creep back into Lucy’s mind.

“Um…before…was that okay?”

“It was perfect,” he whispered reverently, and the tension in her gut uncoiled.

“It was. So why are you being weird?”

Lucy could feel him thinking, heard him gulp before answering. “I wondered…if it was a heat of the moment, one-time thing or…” She opened her mouth to respond, but he kept going, a slight tremble in his voice. “Not that it’s bad if it was, it was still so…and it won’t…I won’t stop being here for you, not unless you want me to. But if it was, it would be, well. It would be easier for me to know.”

Her heart cracked a bit at that, as the certainty from before rushed back into her chest. Blinking her eyes in the dark, trying to see him, Lucy cursed that she couldn’t roll on her side or use both arms to touch him. “It wasn’t a one-time thing for me.”

Flynn took a deep breath in. “Not for me, either.” He was still frozen where he laid beside her. To pull him to her, she had to bend her right arm weirdly behind her, but he gave in, trembling, and leaned forward to bury his face against her shoulder. It hurt her heart to see how little he had expected this.

“Flynn,” she said, trying to nudge his face up, to no avail. “Hey. I want this. I want YOU, Garcia.”

A garbled, choked sound came from him as she said his name, and the bed rocked as he pulled himself up on his hands and knees to hover over her. He leaned down slowly, giving her time to stop him, before he kissed her gently. She kissed him back, trying to pour into the kiss just how sure she was, and she ran her uninjured hand up his neck and behind his head. Flynn pulled away panting and pressed his forehead to hers. “Oh, Lucy. I want this so much.” He slipped back down to lie beside her and nuzzled into the side of her head after kissing her cheek. She leaned over to kiss him, but couldn’t reach and instead caught air. He chuckled and leaned up enough to give her lips a soft brush goodnight. 

Now that it was settled, Lucy felt the world grow fuzzy. With the warm weight of him beside her, his fingers tracing circles across the curve of her waist, she let herself fall under, and her last thought was “I’m keeping you.”


End file.
